I am writing this article on contentment during a very difficult season in my life. I look out at the pristine lawns, sunny sky, and encroaching spring coaxing robins to take flight—three days before we bury my aunt, who died two months after we buried my grandmother, her mother, who died two months after we buried my uncle, her brother. Grief has been an uninvited guest, lingering longer than I ever imagined. And when people ask me how I am doing, I take a deep cleansing breath, wait a beat, then truthfully reply, “It is well with my soul.”
Contentment isn’t a fragile, fleeting emotion; it’s a sturdy, unshakable peace rooted in the unchanging character of God. It’s not found in circumstances, achievements, or the absence of pain. True contentment is formed in the crucible of struggle, where everything is stripped away and all that remains is Jesus.
What Is Contentment?
Along with the deaths of my family members, we walked alongside friends whose marriages dissolved, stood by in helpless disbelief as the children of other friends died, and supported some family members in horrific situations. The weight of it all has felt suffocating at times, pressing in like a darkness that refused to lift. Yet, the heavy grief has been accompanied by a quiet confidence that God is enough, even when life is not. His “enoughness” frees me from the need for circumstances to be just so.
Paul told the Philippians he had discovered the secret to true contentment (Philippians 4:12–13)—and it wasn’t self-reliance offering a false sense of safety, but total dependence on Christ. In Jesus we find fulfillment where circumstances offer none.
The Formation of Contentment
Have you ever wondered why God allows seasons of struggle to linger? Could it be that He knows contentment is found not in the resolution of hardship but in the intimacy formed through it? Let’s be honest—contentment isn’t natural. What is native to you and to me is to long for more—bigger, better, easier. To be satisfied in lack, in pain, or in hardship is aberrant. Contentment is cultivated through seasons of disappointment, loss, and unmet longing. It matures in the moments when we want to escape our reality but choose instead to lean into God.
Throughout my life, I discovered contentment not as a denial of pain but as a steady assurance that Jesus was with me in it. Each tear, each question, each sleepless night became an opportunity to experience His comfort. I clung to the promise that He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). And He was. Not always in ways I expected, but in the quiet persistence of His love, holding me steady when I could barely stand. And slowly, like seeds breaking through hard soil, contentment bloomed.
Lord of Satisfaction
So, how do we cultivate contentment that surpasses circumstances? How do we fix our eyes on Jesus when life feels unbearable?
- Seek His Presence Daily: Contentment begins with connection. Psalm 16:11 reminds us, “You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” Even on days when words fail, simply sitting in His presence brings peace. When the ache of loss or the weight of burdens becomes too heavy, being still before Him anchors our hearts. We may not always have the words to pray, but His presence speaks life into our silence, reminding us that we are never alone.
- Shift Your Perspective: What if contentment isn’t about changing your situation but about changing your vision? Paul reminds us through his letter to the Colossians that we were raised with Jesus, and our real life is hidden in Christ (Colossians 3:1–3). God has used my hardships to turn my heart toward my eternal home with Him. When faced with insufferable situations, lifting my eyes to eternity brings clarity. The temporary pain, while sharp, loses its power to define me when I remember that my life is tethered to a hope that outlasts every storm.
- Trust His Purpose: Psalm 62:8 encourages us to trust the Lord at all times. Trust that He is weaving redemption into your story, even when the threads look tangled. Every hardship, every seemingly unanswered prayer, and every delay is held within His sovereign hands. He doesn’t waste suffering; He molds it into something beautiful. And though we may not see the masterpiece yet, we can rest knowing that the Artist is faithful to complete His work in us (Philippians 1:6).
- Practice Gratitude: Gratitude shifts our hearts from what we lack to what we have. Even in grief, I found reasons to thank God—for the gift of my family, for moments of laughter amid tears, for His sustaining grace. For the assurance that those who died in Christ are now present with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8). Each thank you, spoken through pain, becomes a declaration of trust. Gratitude sanctifies sorrow, transforming our mourning into an offering of praise.
- Surrender Your Desires: Contentment grows when we release our grip on what we think we need to be happy. Jesus invites us to lay our burdens at His feet (Matthew 11:28–30). When we surrender, we create space for His peace to fill us. The dreams we mourn, the expectations we clutch tightly, the life we envisioned—all of it finds its rightful place when placed in His care. And in the surrender, we discover a contentment that flourishes not because life is easy but because God is enough.
The Becoming of Contentment
Contentment is possible at all times because contentment is not a destination, nor a checkbox on a list. It’s not a fleeting feeling tied to favorable conditions but a steady, unshakable reality that grows within us as we anchor our hearts in Christ every day. Contentment is the beautiful fruit of abiding in Him, cultivated through seasons of surrender and trust. It flourishes not in the absence of hardship but in the presence of His unwavering love.
There is a becoming in contentment—a slow, sacred transformation. It’s marked by gentleness as we let go of striving, resilience as we endure trials with grace, and unwavering hope that clings to God’s promises even when the world shakes. Our souls, once restless and grasping for what we lack, begin to exhale. We stop living in the ache of unmet desires and start savoring the abundant goodness of what we already have: God Himself.
Because, in the end, contentment is not about life being perfect—it’s about knowing the One who is.
If you find yourself weary and longing for contentment, know this: You are not alone, and you are not without hope. Jesus is near, closer than your very breath. In Him, you have everything you need. And when you choose to live that truth—day by day, moment by moment—you just might find yourself whispering through tears, “It is well with my soul.”
—Written by Cheryl Shumake. Used by permission from the author.
